Easter on a Bench

I went to my local grocery store down the street.  Shocked by the price of toilet paper, I decided to go across the street to another grocery store to compare prices.  In hindsight, that when the GPS of my upcoming experience was set into motion by my Creator.  What was my plan now became a prime opportunity for Him to take action.

Nestled between two large apartment complexes, sits a quaint little park. Just enough room for two benches, a few feet of green grass and oceans of pigeons that feed on whatever people have thrown down.  On one of the benches sat a woman I've come to know.  We've established a relationship of sorts. She speaks very little German.  She is from Romania.  She sells newspapers for a living.  I've never seen her wear anything other than the same layers of clothes ... in cold weather and warm.  She keeps her head covered so I make assumptions she has some sort of Muslim religion in her background.

I've given her money.  I've given her food.  I've uttered prayers every time I've seen her.  Recently, I saw her in my neighborhood but she was not in front of the grocery store that is her territory.  She was walking, without her bundle of papers, and when she saw me on the other side of the Strassenbahn (street car) tracks she began waving.  I waved back and smiled.  I like my friend.

A few months ago on one of our encounters, she pointed to her heart and said "Krank" (sick).  She looked bad.  She looked fevered.  Yet there she stood, in her layers and layers of clothes, in front of the grocery store selling her papers ... her only income.

I went about my grocery shopping and asked the Holy Sprit to show me what she needed:  orange juice, herbal tea, bananas, and some bread.  I left it with her and prayed for her in the silence of my heart ... much like the many other time before.

Just yesterday I passed her store and noticed she hadn't been there in a while.  I shot up prayers on her behalf and went about my day.

Today, my GPS got reset to encounter her on the bench.  Her face was unusually red and flushed, her eyes looked awful and she looked listless.  When she saw me she didn't have the usual smile.  I asked her how she was doing.  She pointed to her heart again.

I instantly put my hand over her heart and prayed.  I prayed in English - it wouldn't have mattered if it was in German because she speaks so little German.  I asked Jesus for total healing of her heart.  I stared right at her as I prayed ... and she stared back.  Every time I spoke the name of Jesus, she nodded.  When I said "Amen" she said "Amen" and then something in Romanian.

I was overcome with emotion.  I hugged her tight.  She kissed my cheek with the familiarity that a Mother kisses a child.  Tears were in her eyes.  And in mine, too.

As I left her on the bench, I saw the significance of Easter:  A risen Savior.  A Savior who rose to give new life ... abundant life ... who bore not only our sin ... but our shame ... and our sickness ... my friends heart sickness ... every sickness ever known to man ... to me.  This was why He came.  To set captives free.  To speak love in every language.  To know us and be known.

thinking of Easter a little different this year,
christina